


Girl Stuff

by scatter



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Community: badbadbathhouse, Confessions, Crossdressing, Embarrassment, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-19 00:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatter/pseuds/scatter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Believing that girls are more allowed to talk about their feelings, Yosuke makes use of his pageant outfit to confess to Souji. The idea made more sense in his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Girl Stuff

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a [prompt](http://badbadbathhouse.livejournal.com/736.html?thread=330976#t330976) at the Persona 4 Kink Meme: _Souji/Yosuke, in their "Miss" pageant outfits, doing it in a classroom after school._

They had another few minutes until the MC started calling them all on stage, and Yosuke was already shaking, already sick with nerves. Once again, he cursed Chie for her choice in his outfit, the girls in general for signing them up, and himself for starting the whole thing. In his defense, it'd been a joke. He hadn't expected the girls to be locked into the competition or to be in one himself.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and clenched his hands in his lap. It'd be fine; they'd be on stage five minutes, ten max – but that was ten minutes of people laughing at them, who knew how many days of being made fun of afterwards…

Someone sat next to him, hips and arms and shoulders touching, and a skirt brushed against his legs. He didn't have to open his eyes to know who it was, the touch as familiar as the hint of cologne under the smell of whatever the girls had sprayed on him.

"Hey, partner."

"You don't look good." Souji pressed closer still and touched his fingers to his elbow.

"I think I'm going to barf." That might have been exaggeration, but not by much. His stomach didn't want to settle and his palms were damp with sweat.

"Why?" The fingers curled around his arm. Yosuke opened his eyes but only Kanji was in the room, and he waited by the door for the MC, paying them no attention.

"Because I'm about to go in front of the entire school in a skirt and I look like a clown with all this damn makeup."

"Chie went overboard, but it's not that bad." Souji smiled when he made a face. "Well, if you ignore it, I think you make a very pretty girl."

"Ha." Yosuke laughed shortly. "Thanks. You're not so bad looking yourself."

Souji's makeup was understated; Yukiko had a good hand with cosmetics, even on a guy, and she'd managed to soften some of the sharper angles of his face, done something that made his eyelashes stand out more. It was faintly distracting and part of the reason he didn't notice Souji moving at first.

"I mean it." Souji's fingers trailed down his arm, found his hand, and worked it out of the fist it had been clenched into. His leg moved, skirt hissing against the material of Yosuke's long socks as he rubbed them together.

Yosuke darted a glance at Kanji and dropped his voice. "H-hey, this is…"

"For girls, right?" Souji's breath warmed his cheek. "But aren't we right now?"

"We're not—that's not how this works." His skin burned. Souji's lips touched him, feather light and slick with gloss, and he didn't move away but neither could he work up the courage to lean closer.

The MC started his announcements.

Souji slid his mouth across his cheek, somehow turned the movement into helping him stand as Kanji looked their way. Yosuke was grateful for the support; his knees were weak and he stumbled as they lined up.

"Sorry," Souji whispered behind him, close enough that goosebumps rose on Yosuke's neck. "I shouldn't have done that."

"It's fine." The conversation brought back the memory of two weeks ago when Souji had turned to him at lunch, confessed and kissed him. Since then they'd been a little off, not quite as in-sync as they normally were, Yosuke a little tied into knots because, well…

That kind of stuff was for girls.

Holding hands and touching each other for no reason, leaning close just to be close and maybe sneaking a kiss – girl stuff, things they could get away with no problem, things, more importantly, they'd been told all their lives it was okay to express. For the first time in his life, Yosuke was jealous of them for more than just being able to see breasts whenever they wanted.

He wanted to touch Souji, to say the dumb, sappy crap that came to mind when he looked at him, to reach out and hold his hand, but when he tried he froze up. Guys didn't do that, not even gay guys, not without people thinking they were sissies. His old classmates had made sure he realized that.

But if Souji had been a girl or he'd been one or they'd both been… It wasn't until they were back in the classroom after the pageant, removing hair clips and stockings, and he held his blouse that the idea came to him. It was the kind of thing he expected Souji to come up with, so crazy he almost tossed it out immediately, but it might work. Maybe, if he could make himself go through with it.

Deliberately vague, he asked Souji to meet him after school and didn't think about the idea for the rest of school, in case he talked himself out of it.

There were no clubs meeting that afternoon after classes let out, the school still recovering from the Festival. Yosuke hid – waited – in an empty classroom, eyes on the door, paranoid that someone would walk in.

The door opened and he flinched even as he recognized the voice, a thousand doubts rushing forward. "Yosuke, what—"

Souji stopped when he caught sight of him. He wore his school uniform, just like he should. Yosuke wore his Culture Festival outfit, hands clenched around the bottom of the skirt so tightly they ached.

"H-hey." Yosuke's voice cracked from nerves and the strain of trying to sound like a girl.

Souji closed the door blindly, eyes locked on him. "Yosuke, what are you—?"

"Chan," Yosuke added. "Yosuke-chan because I'm, well, I'm a girl, haha." He'd scrubbed the rouge off of his cheeks as soon as possible but he doubted he needed any now, his face was so hot. "And I'd, uh, like to talk to Souji-chan."

He'd gotten Souji's outfit from Yukiko, enduring an odd look and unspoken question like she thought he was going to do something weird to it, and he gestured to it on top of a desk.

"Why can't we talk like this?"

Yosuke stared at the floor. His socks itched and a drop of sweat made its way down his back under his ill-fitting blouse. "Girls can talk about stuff guys can't. Just…" His voice broke and he slipped back into his normal speaking tone. "Humor me for a minute? Please?"

He shut his eyes so he didn't have to see the expression on Souji's face. This was a dumb idea, the worse he'd ever come up with, and fuck, how pathetic was he that he couldn't even—that he needed some kind of disguise to admit something to his closest friend.

But Souji changed without any more questions or a sign of amusement, anything that would have made Yosuke feel worse than he already did. Yosuke watched out of the corner of his eye, heart in his throat. His strawberry clip pulled his hair tight.

"Okay." No fake female voice from Souji once the wig was in place. He could have passed for a girl, maybe, even without the makeup, at least from a distance. A concerned girl with nice eyes; it hadn't been whatever Yukiko had used that brought attention to them. "Now what's this about?"

"I wanted to confess something but this—this is a hell of a lot harder than I thought it'd be." He wiped his hands on his blouse and let Souji take hold of one of them. Their hands were both rougher than they'd been a few months ago, and Yosuke had a few light scars from handling and dropping his knives. Souji touched one of them.

"Best friends don't keep things from each other, Yosuke-chan." He said the name easily enough, and even without a hint of mockery in his voice Yosuke's ears burned. "So please tell me."

How hard had it been for Souji to say it weeks ago with no guarantee his feelings would be returned? Yosuke had a guarantee, already knew how Souji felt, but the words had to climb up a dry throat, and he wasn't sure where he managed to get the strength to keep eye contact. Probably from the hopeful look in Souji's eyes and how firmly he gripped his hand.

"I like you." The words rang loudly in his ears and he swallowed. Every part of him buzzed and he returned Souji's grip harder than needed. "A lot, partner, and I just wanted you to know that. I'm sorry for leaving you hanging on the roof."

"There's nothing wrong with saying you need more time to think about it, but why go through all this to tell me?"

"Because I'm a fucking…lame ass coward…" He stared at the floor, frowned. "Guys aren't supposed to want stuff like this, you know?"

Souji's voice was soft. "Stuff like what?"

"For you to hold my hand and give me a hug and…" He shook his head. "Girl stuff, you know what I mean."

"Ah." Souji's breath ghosted over his neck as he leaned in and one arm slipped around his back. "It's a good thing we're both wearing skirts then."

Yosuke managed a laugh, barely.

It wasn't like the hug on the flood plains. That had been comforting, designed to make Yosuke feel better, and this one did too, but now their bodies pressed more tightly together, and Souji nosed his neck. Yosuke wrapped his arms around his neck and wished he could have done this without the need for a skirt.

"Lame, huh? Not being able to just tell you."

"I'm just glad you did." Souji kissed his cheek. "Can I do this?"

Yosuke paused for a second, turned his head and caught his mouth. Souji made a soft noise of surprise and Yosuke pressed harder, wrinkled Souji's shirt between his fingers. Souji made another sound and raised one hand to touch Yosuke's cheek before placing it behind his head to hold him in place.

Yosuke shook from adrenaline, from nerves and the worry of someone walking in, from kissing Souji and having him kiss back, from allowing himself to make half-choked noises when things started to heat up and Souji slipped him tongue. His movements weren't as smooth as they could have been; he still wanted to freeze up even as he told himself this was just Souji but that—Souji was never _just_ Souji, he was his partner and best friend, and when he worked a spot on Yosuke's throat, his knees buckled for the second time that day.

He wasn't sure who started moving first, only that a few moments later, while Souji had his attention on his neck and Yosuke twisted fabric around his fingers until they hurt, the back of his legs hit the edge of a desk. He stumbled and they almost tripped.

"Sorry." Souji tugged him back up and gasped. Yosuke's thigh rubbed against the bulge between his legs and they both looked away.

"Haha, hard already, partner?" At least he wasn't the only one, though Souji's skirt did a better job of hiding it.

"Sorry, I'm just—"

"Don't worry about it." Yosuke straightened as his mind raced, latched on to the possibility of doing something without prompting. He wet his lips and forced doubt aside. "Actually, why don't you—hold your skirt up, okay?"

"What, like this?" Souji raised it hesitantly, exposing his boxers and the top of his black stockings. His cheeks were pink.

"No, more like—" Yosuke adjusted it so that Souji's hands rested on the desk behind him and the skirt covered them from the waist down. "Okay." His hands trembled as he dipped them under the skirt, and he kissed Souji, partly to distract himself and partly because he wasn't tired of doing it yet.

Souji responded, his tongue wet and slick in Yosuke's mouth, and it wasn't until Yosuke worked a hand into the slit of his boxers that he tensed up.

"Want me to stop?" Yosuke asked. He hadn't considered that maybe he was moving too fast, trying to prove to himself that he could do this, but what if Souji didn't want, only wanted—

Souji pressed his face against his neck. "No, no, keep going, please."

Jerking himself off in a skirt was unfamiliar enough, not something Yosuke had ever dreamt of doing, but equally unfamiliar was handling another guy. He was too quick and clumsy, his hands slipping and jumping with his desire to get them off, but Souji panted against his neck and rocked towards him, shoes squeaking against the floor, and Yosuke lost it when their cocks bumped and Souji came against him.

Souji sagged forward and Yosuke didn't tell him to move, just wiped his hands where he could – on the skirts, Souji's stockings, and the whole outfits were going to have to be thrown out unless they wanted the girls asking weird questions.

Souji spent a long time kissing him before they changed, slower than before, and when the outfits were on the floor and their school uniforms back on, he laughed and said quietly, "Back to being boys."

His eyes were on the pile of clothing and there was a tense set to his shoulders. Yosuke's hands smelled and he'd have to wash them, but he grabbed Souji's fingers, entwined them. "Hey, I meant what I said. It doesn't end just because I'm out the skirt. Thank goodness for that." He tried not to sound nervous, hoping and praying Souji believed him and that he hadn't messed things up. "I didn't look good in it anyway."

Souji relaxed, met his eyes, and smiled. "I wasn't sure, you know, since…"

"I just needed it to get started." He closed the distance between them and touched their foreheads together. "Sorry I'm so lame, but I wasn't lying. I really like you, partner. I can't… This whole touching thing, I'll get better about it, but I just want you to know…"

"It's fine." Souji tilted his head, their mouths not quite touching. "And don't worry about the skirt; you've got nice legs."

"Liar." Yosuke ran a thumb over his knuckles. "Crap, what are we going to do about those? Chie will kill me if I give that back to her all stained."

"Yukiko's letting me keep mine. She said it was too old to wear anymore. I'll do something about yours and if I can't clean it, we'll make up something to tell Chie."

They held hands, comfortable despite the traces of sweat and stickiness that remained, until they got to the school entrance, where Souji gently disconnected them. "Don't push yourself."

Yosuke hated that Souji had to say something like that. "Right."

Not because Souji expected him to but because he wanted to, every so often on the walk to Souji's house, he brushed his fingers against the back of Souji's hand. Part of him wanted to jerk back each time he did, but Souji smiled when they made contact, and when Yosuke bit the inside of his mouth and held Souji's hand, even the sour, nervous taste on his tongue couldn't compete with the warmth that spread through him.

He didn't manage to keep it up for more than a few seconds, but Souji didn't push him and he kept at it, getting better and better until reaching out to find Souji's hand was as natural as breathing.

Just like he wanted it to be.


End file.
